


No plot but loads of paint

by a_Wreck



Series: enjoltaire parents au [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Parents, Beach Holidays, Day At The Beach, Enjolras needs to relax, Enjolras/Grantaire-centric, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Grantaire is the best husband, M/M, Multi, Summer, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 14:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20391067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_Wreck/pseuds/a_Wreck
Summary: The Les Amis and their families are on a holiday near the sea. That's it. Adorable people with adorable children.And literally what the title says.





	No plot but loads of paint

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a man painting at the beach with a bunch of children, so if you like this fic you can say thank you for it to my stalker friend who drew my attention to them.  
You are of course, also welcome to leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed it ;)

Enjolras’s back cracked as he sat up in the empty queen-sized bed, the place where Grantaire should have been sleeping next to him was empty, except for the crumpled blanket he left behind. Enjolras tried to rub the remaining sleep out of his eyes and looked around to take in his surroundings. He felt a little disoriented both by the fact that he woke much later than what he was used to, he didn’t wake in his own house and his husband wasn’t beside him as usual.

The room he was in belonged to the large holiday house Cosette’s father owned near the sea, where Enjolras and his friends were holding their annual summer vacation with their families. The room he and Grantaire got was one of the larger ones, with two windows letting warm sunshine pour over the bed. The only other furniture in the room was a table, housing Enjolras’s half opened laptop and some random art supplies Grantaire must have scattered around it at one point.

After processing that he was in his room alone, Enjolras decided to take advantage of the situation and take a nice shower before going to look for the others, so he dug his towel out of his and Grantaire’s suitcase and stumbled over the long corridor to the bathroom, hoping that Grantaire was already there this morning and left their shower gel there for him. Only on his way back to his room did he realise that the house was uncharacteristically quiet for a place that was the temporary home for fourteen adults and ten kids.

After checking the time and confirming his suspicion that it was well after ten am, he made his way around the house, trying to identify what held the power to keep his friends and family so quiet. The answer was rather obvious but Enjolras refused to believe it until he had checked every room and even walked around the house outside as if the whole company could be standing silently in one corner of the garden. But soon enough even he had to admit to himself that the others went away somewhere and left him at home. On the first day of their vacation.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket angrily to call his husband and question him about why he was left behind, when he realised there was already a text waiting for him from Grantaire, sent an hour ago.

Went to the beach. xxx

Well, at least they didn’t go far, Enjolras reasoned but as he pictured everyone in the water, playing and laughing, he couldn’t help but feel irritated to be left out. As he quickly changed into his swimming trunk, threw on a thin, white shirt and found his beach towel on the floor, where it must have fallen when Grantaire pulled out his own from their suitcase, he had mused about how Grantaire could forget about him and take off without waking him and how he would tell him off for it once he got to the beach. Vacation or not, his husband was not supposed to forget about him.

Enjolras made his way down the small path that lead to the sea in large strides, not wanting his irritation at Grantaire and his friends to fade before reaching them, so he could tell them off accordingly. He was just about to round the little cottages that served as bars and restaurants at the beach, when a laughing Courfeyrac caught his arm and pulled him over to one of the bars, where Musichetta and Bahorel were waiting by the counter. 

“Ah, Enjolras, you woke up!” Bahorel beamed at him. “We are ordering drinks. Want anything?”

Enjolras was determined not to let his anger evaporate before he could at least whine some about his morning grievances, but it was hard not to smile at the sight of the large guy with tattooed chest, sporting his light pink swimming trunk with tiny cherries printed all over it proudly.

“A lemonade” he amended, turning to Musichetta, who contrary to Bahorel looked rather fashionable in her deep red swimming suit and matching 70s style sunglasses. “Do you need any help?” he tilted his head towards the one-year-old baby daughter in the woman’s arms.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, but I’m only waiting for a spoon to be able to feed Sophie. She’s getting hungry, aren’t you?” she looked down at the baby in her arms, leaning closer and making her reach out to touch her mother’s face clumsily, giggling lightly.

“Not even a word for me, Sleeping Beauty?” Courfeyrac clasped a hand unexpectedly on Enjolras’s shoulder. Fortunately for the side of Enjolras that desired to tell Grantaire off for forgetting to wake him and going to the beach without him, Courfeyrac’s words brought the sentiment right back to the front of his thoughts.

“First, I shall have a few words with Grantaire” he informed his friend tightly.

“Poor man, what have he done that you can sense without even seeing him?” Courfeyrac joked, but Enjolras had already left his side and walked towards the side of the beach where they usually camped for beach days.

Sure enough, he could soon spot his little group. Eponine was sunbathing on her back, her older daughter sitting cross legged next to her, trying to place her fingers on the right positions on Jehan’s ukulele with the help of Gavroche, who was looking up chord for her on his phone. Next to them, Cosette was trying to hold her youngest daughter still, while Marius applied another layer of sun cream on her, both Cosette and little Juliette laughing at Marius’s desperate attempts at massaging the cream into the little girl’s face. And beside them in a circle sat Feuilly, Jehan, Combeferre with his younger daughter in his lap, Enjolras’s own son, Henri, with Cosette’s and Marius’s son and of course, Grantaire.

Enjolras strode over to them, taking a deep breath to finally call the man out on his morning behaviour, but suddenly Henri’s head shot up and a huge grin took over his face as he jumped to his feet happily to greet Enjolras.

“Daddy! Look, dad let us take the paints to the beach” he cried excitedly, making his way over to Enjolras and grabbing his hand to pull him closer. “I’m painting waves and dad promised he will draw Spiderman surfing on them when it’s ready” he explained and suddenly Enjolras couldn’t keep the scornful expression on his face with as much success as he would have liked to.

As they made their way over to the little circle Enjolras realised that sure enough, everyone was painting on a piece of paper, using a cheap watercolour set that was placed in the middle alongside a mug full of, by now, brown looking water.

“And the mighty Apollo awakens” Grantaire leaned back to have a better look at Enjolras from his place on the ground. “Just as beautiful as always” he smiled, tilting his head back, clearly expecting a kiss. But after Enjolras didn’t offer one but managed to resume his disapproving expression the cheerful smile left his husband’s face and he got to his feet with a sigh, taking Enjolras’s hand and pulling him a bit away from their friends.

“Hey there!” he started on a gentle tone. “What’s up?”

“What’ up?” Enjolras’s head shot up. “What’s up, asks my sweet husband after forgetting about my existence for hours!” he broke out.

“What?” Grantaire took a step back, clearly puzzled.

“Come on! Don’t pretend like you didn’t!”

“You should know by now that there isn’t a moment that I don’t think about you” Grantaire shook his head, disbelieving. “What is this about?”

“Well, you forgot to wake me and left me home, for a start” Enjolras lowered his eyes to the ground shyly, suddenly not so sure if he was right.

“What? I didn’t forget to wake you” Grantaire laughed as he leaned upwards to plant a kiss on Enjolras’s chin. “I simply decided to let you sleep, since for once, you didn’t have to get up at six. It’s a holiday, Apollo. I wanted you to be able to rest. Even gods need to sleep in sometimes” he added with a wink, which made Enjolras smile lightly.

“I’m sorry” he muttered after a moment of consideration. “I think I may have overreacted.”

“You think so?” Grantaire laughed, but as he realised Enjolras’s spirit haven’t quite lifted yet, he added on a serious tone. “It’s okay, love. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately and it won’t just go away simply because you are on vacation.”

“Yeah, I guess you are right” Enjolras admitted, looking over his husband, just realising that he had a dark blue paint stain on his bare chest. A fact, which he happened to find that quite endearing.

“Rare praise. Can I have my morning kiss now?” Grantaire asked, sounding rather smug as he took Enjolras’s hand in his.

“You painted over yourself” Enjolras pointed out before leaning in to grant the man his kiss.

“Talks Monsieur Coffee-stain-everywhere” his husband laughed in response when they parted as he snaked his arms around Enjolras’s waist and pulled him close, letting their foreheads touch.

“Dad! I finished the waves, look!” Henri appeared at Grantaire’s side, tugging at his father’s swimming trunks impatiently, promptly ending the romantic moment. Not that Enjolras minded as he watched his husband kneel next to his son, examining the painting that consisted of a mostly blue paper.

“You didn’t leave much space for poor Spiderman to surf on these now, did you, Tiger?” Grantaire ruffled the boy’s dark curls playfully.

“I just wanted them to be really high” Henri explained. “Uncle Ferre said he was sure you could find a way to still add Spiderman.”

“And how right he was” Grantaire beamed. “See, your father is the superhero of drawing, never letting such trivial things as lack of paper standing in the way of one’s artistic vision. That is why they call me the Paintman at the museum” he winked.

“But dad, you are not a superhero” Henri giggled. “You don’t have a suit” he pointed out.

“I think that large paint stain on him is a pretty badass suit” Enjolras cut in from where he stood.

“See! That’s the reason why I married to your father. He knows what’s up” Grantaire nodded seriously, not looking up from examining Henri’s painting.

“Is that really why you married me? Because I know what’s up?”

“Oh, hush! You know it was the looks” Grantaire looked up at that, grinning.

“You are the worst!” Enjolras kicked him lightly.

“Do I see domestic abuse? Henri, close your eyes, this is illegal!” Courfeyrac walked up to them, handing Enjolras his lemonade and Grantaire his beer.

“Where’s my iced tea?” Henri questioned, ignoring Courfeyrac’s joke which, from the way he wrinkled his nose, Enjolras was sure he didn’t get.

“Bahorel has it” Courfeyrac pointed behind his back, lifting his cocktail to his lips.

“You got lemonade instead of coffee” Grantaire pointed at Enjolras’s drink as Henri stormed down the beach to track down Bahorel and his drink.

“You got beer instead of wine” Enjolras nodded towards Grantaire’s drink in response.

“Oh, don’t worry, I will have wine too. The lemonade is more surprising in my opinion.”

“Maybe” Enjolras frowned at his drink. “I didn’t feel so tired, I guess. I didn’t even think about getting coffee.”

“Side effect of being well rested for once, I would say” Grantaire kissed him on the cheek again. “Now if you excuse me, I have a picture to finish for Chetta, before her boys stop their modelling” he added, before heading back to the paints, taking Henri’s picture with him. Sure enough, out in the water Joly and Bossuet were playing with their twin sons, catching them and swaying them around and trying to duck from the water splashed at their way.

“I gather from the grin on your face that R has put you in a better mood” Courfeyrac concluded.

“He did” Enjolras eyed the man in question, who put a brush distractedly into his mouth as he pulled back his hair into a manbun, his eyes not leaving Joly, Bossuet and the kids in the sea.

“Let’s not give him all the credit though. It’s impossible to be in a bad mood at the beach” Courfeyrac added and as Enjolras looked over his friends, swimming, painting, sunbathing or in Gavroche’s case, digging an intimidatingly deep hole in the sand he had to agree.

It was impossible to be in a bad mood on the beach. With his family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!  
This was so much fun to write, I might consider writing some other stories for this au. Let me know if you would be interested or have any requests!  
If you want to talk, my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/awreckfics) is always open :)  
Kudos and comments are much welcome!
> 
> Update: I have made a tumblr post about the kids if you are interested in the details;)  
I also have this little ficlet if you are interested in more


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